


just wanna feel your touch

by groundopenwide



Category: Catfish: The TV Show
Genre: Fluff, M/M, max is a grumpy idiot, nev is touchy feely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2048106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groundopenwide/pseuds/groundopenwide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nev won't stop touching Max and, contrary to popular belief, Max is not amused.</p>
<p>(Or he's just in denial. Either way).</p>
            </blockquote>





	just wanna feel your touch

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote more nev/max. oops. it's not my fault these two flirt nonstop, okay?
> 
> title taken from _touch_ by shift k3y.

It’s turned into a game that Max is sure Nev has named _“Touch Max as many times as I can while the cameras are rolling since he can’t punch me in the face on television,”_ or something equally as obnoxious and complicated.

They’re standing next to each other at the door of the home of yet another catfish or catfishee, and Nev will very purposefully press the entire left side of his body against Max’s right. They’re sitting in a booth at a diner in bumfuck nowhere, insert Midwestern or Southern state here, and Nev has his arm slung “casually” around Max’s shoulders. Tiny, insignificant touches that aren’t really insignificant at all.

At first, Max hadn’t thought much of it. Nev was a tactile guy- always ready with a clap on the shoulder, a knee-to-knee nudge, the occasional hug. Even if Max wasn’t necessarily one for physical affection, he generally didn’t protest, simply because it was _Nev_. Telling him to back off would have been petty, and moreover, it would have only led to that sad, crushed look on Nev’s face. So not worth it.

But now that Nev has decided to essentially _maul him on screen,_ Max is reevaluating.

“Why the pinched face?” Nev asks teasingly. The cameras have stopped rolling, but Max’s shoulders are still raised  to his ears from when he’d gone stiff only seconds before thanks to Nev nearly _koalaing_ him. While sitting down. Was that even possible?

“You know, generally when someone tells you they don’t like it when you touch them, that means you should stop,” Max says.

With a shrug, Nev merely grins at him. And then he reaches out to tweak Max’s nose.

“ _I am not some cute little child!_ ” Max stresses, jerking sideways in his chair and out of Nev’s reach. “You can’t just... _do_ that.”

“Grumble and groan all you want, I know it doesn’t actually bother you.”

“Believe it or not, it does,” Max argues.

Nev is still grinning, the smug asshole. “Alright. Whatever you say.”

Max huffs a bit pointedly, but says nothing more. His reactions are undoubtedly only going to egg Nev on. Case in point.

He distracts himself by going in search of his camera case, and is just placing his camera inside when one of the producers tells them, “that was great, guys. The viewers are going to eat that shit right up.”

Nev laughs, and it sounds an awful lot like a death sentence. Max is _not_ a fan of this game.

*

Nev attacking him while they research, take two.

“Stop looking for excuses to touch me!”

The protest is pretty much useless as Nev nearly topples both of them over, his head knocking into Max’s chest. “But we finish each other’s sentences, it’s so adorable,” he replies.

And Max isn’t laughing. He isn’t. He’s frustrated and annoyed with Nev for continuing this stupid trend, and he doesn’t find it amusing in the slightest. More importantly, he _does not like it._ Not at all.

“I’m filing with HR,” he grumbles half-heartedly.

Nev’s grin is one of accomplishment as he rights himself, tugging Max up along with him and then turning to the laptop as if nothing’s happened at all. Behind the cameras, the crew are all watching them knowingly while attempting to smother their own laughter, and Max fights off a scowl, choosing instead to glare at the computer screen.

This game _sucks._

“You look like you chewed on something sour,” David tells him afterwards, once they’ve finished their skype call with Jeff and have begun packing up the film equipment. Max shoots him the most unamused look he can muster, raising both of his eyebrows, and David merely puts his hands up in surrender before backing away with a chuckle. The rest of the crew gives him a wide berth, finally recognizing his grumpy attitude for what it is.

Well, everyone seems to except for Nev. Of course.

“Cheer up, buttercup!” A hand claps down roughly onto his shoulder, and Max flinches. “I’m sure the weather is beautiful in Florida.”

“It’s always Florida,” Max mutters. His skin feels too hot through the fabric of his t-shirt where Nev’s hand has settled itself.

Nev is smiling like the cat that caught the canary (but that’s nothing new) as he reaches up and playfully ruffles Max’s hair. In response, Max grunts and ducks away, his hands coming up to readjust the artfully messy spikes that Nev has just so kindly destroyed. He peers into the mirror above the desk and sighs when he realizes that there’s really no point in fixing them now. His hair is flat (and grey- so painfully grey).

“You’re like a cranky old man,” Nev points out.

With a roll of his eyes, Max hooks his bag over his shoulder and gives Nev a long-suffering look. “I’m not old. Or cranky. I just don’t appreciate when I get tackled on camera.”

“Thirty is totally old,” Nev replies, decisively ignoring the last part of Max’s statement. As they follow the rest of the crew out of the hotel room, he adds, “It is always Florida, isn’t it?”

“And we thought _Catlanta_ was bad,” Max shakes his head.

They’re still making their way down the hall to the elevator, but Nev pulls his sunglasses out from the collar of his shirt anyway and places them over his face with a dramatic flourish. “I’m still holding out hope for a Hawaiian catfish. I’m so ready to get my hula on.”

*

The weather in Florida is about as far from beautiful as weather can get. It’s dreary and overcast, rain trickling down onto the windshield as they make the trek from the airport to Jeff’s apartment. Nev is behind the wheel, as per usual, while Max sits with his GoPro in the passenger seat, feeling similarly gloomy. He and the sky have that in common.

When they’ve stopped at a red light, Nev nonchalantly reaches out and pokes him in the cheek.

Max grits his teeth.

“Hey.”

He gives a noncommittal hum.

“Max.”

Another hum.

This time more drawn out, “Maaaax.”

Max shuts his eyes and presses his forehead to the window. The cool glass doesn’t seem to help the pounding in his temples much. “Can I help you?”

He cracks open one eye, and Nev has both hands back on the steering wheel, but he’s biting the inside of his lip as if trying to stifle a grin. “You missed a spot shaving. Just thought I would let you know.”

“And you couldn’t have just used your words?”

“I had to show you the exact spot,” Nev replies in a tone that screams, _duh._ He then digs his index finger once more into the side of Max’s face for good measure.

*

So, Jeff can’t leave Florida because of work. “Megan” is in Texas but somehow needs to be convinced to meet Jeff. And come to Florida to do so.

“When did this show get so complicated?” One of the sound guys mumbles. Max is wondering the exact same thing.

He’s supposed to travel to Texas, track down this catfish, and bring her back with him, preferably without getting bitched out or murdered in the process. Even better, he’s supposed to accomplish all of this with only half of the usual film crew. And no Nev.

“You really want me to go alone?” Max blurts, once they’ve stepped out of Jeff’s apartment to discuss travel logistics. “I mean...I’m not as patient as Nev. Nor as convincing. What if I can’t get her to come?”

Brad arches a brow and rolls his eyes, a gesture that Max is pretty sure was picked up from him. “You know the drill, Max. She was the one who contacted the show in the first place; everything’ll be fine. Besides, a little separation anxiety between you and Nev will be good for the ratings.”

_Separation anxiety?_ Right. Because Max is so worried about being away from touchy-feely, codependent Nev for a day or two. That’s not what he’s nervous about. That would just be...well.

“But we need each other, Brad!” Nev feigns a swoon, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead and swaying into Max’s side. “Max and I are partners in crime. Two peas in a pod. He’s the peanut butter to my jelly.”

_I don’t even like jelly,_ Max thinks pettily as he catches Nev by the upper arm and and straightens him.

“See what I mean? It’s perfect. The regular catfish drama with a little bit of you two angsting away added into the mix. It’s reality television gold,” Brad affirms.

Maybe it’ll be nice, some time away from Nev and his incessant touching. “Fine,” Max eventually agrees, squashing the small niggling of doubt in his chest. “I’ll catch the catfish on my own.”

The expression that takes over Nev’s features eerily resembles that of a pout. Max hadn’t known it was possible for a twenty-eight-year-old man to sport such a look. “I don’t like this,” Nev announces.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you,” Brad retorts, and Nev’s lower lip protrudes further. “Now give each other a hug and a kiss. We’ve got to get Max to the airport as soon as we can.”

Inevitably, Nev accompanies them to the airport, though he’s stubbornly quiet the entire ride there. Max had thought he was more than ready for silence- sweet, blessed, silence- but it turns out to be rather uncomfortable, and he almost wants to fill it with mindless chatter (except he’s not very good at that, and wouldn’t really know what to say). So he just slouches down into his seat while Nev navigates the maze of overpasses that leads to the domestic terminal and hums along to the Pitbull song that’s playing on the radio. It’s mostly normal.

Once they arrive, Max is just hefting his bag out of the trunk and down onto the pavement when out of nowhere, he suddenly has a back full of Nev Schulman, and he stumbles a bit as the weight catches him off guard and throws him sideways. Nev hooks his legs around Max’s torso and clings to his neck, right there in the middle of the departures section of the airport, and through his annoyance Max can hear the laughter coming from David and Brad and the rest of the crew off to the side. Unfortunately, he has no choice but to grab onto Nev’s thighs in order to hold him in place. Max actually contemplates dropping Nev straight onto his ass for a moment, but figures that would be a bit over the top, even for him.

“Don’t leave me!” Nev cries. Nearby, a family of four shoots them sidelong glances as they unload their suitcases from a cab, and Max cringes internally. They’re probably questioning why a grown man is giving another grown man a piggy back outside of the terminal at nine o’clock at night. Max can’t even provide them with an answer, either.

“You’re insufferable,” he responds flatly. Nev simply tightens his grip and then goes on to _nuzzle the side of Max’s neck._ The family of four continues to stare.

“Alright, kids, that’s enough PDA,” David finally interrupts them, and Nev grumbles but climbs off of Max’s back, _thank God._ Max frowns and smoothes the wrinkles out of his shirt before grabbing the handle on his suitcase, prepared to head inside. Nev is standing a couple of feet away, doing nothing more than watch him, and Max raises an eyebrow in his direction as if to say, _what?_

Apparently that’s the cue Nev is waiting for, because he’s abruptly closing the space between them and wrapping Max up in a hug (a somewhat regular hug, at least). This time, Max decides to give in, and he allows the tension to slip from his body as he lifts his arms and squeezes Nev in return, giving him a companionable pat on the back.

“I’ll see you in less than forty-eight hours,” he reassures as they pull away, and Nev frowns.

“Too long,” he decides, and Max can’t help it- he grins, a bit indulgently as Nev continues, “keep the sass to a minimum. Don’t piss of the catfish, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, promise,” Max swears, planting his palm over his chest in a _nothing but the truth_ gesture. Nev’s mouth tips up, and then he’s waving goodbye as Max follows Brad into the terminal, the wheels of his suitcase _click-clicking_ over the pavement.

*

Max spends the two-hour flight with his GoPro glued to the window, filming the flashing lights on the wing as they cross through the darkened sky. He’s attempted to catch some sleep, but he couldn’t seem to get his neck pillow situated comfortably and eventually gave up. He’s more restless than he usually is- and the plane seems too quiet, even with the baby that’s crying somewhere in the back.

At one point, he turns to make a sarcastic comment about poor parenting in this day and age, until he remembers that Nev isn’t next to him or behind him or across the aisle, but back in Florida. It’s a bit of a pitiful realization.

The hotel is the same way. There’s no ridiculous Nev-esque wake up call involving terrible off-key singing or a repeated flicking against his ear, and Max finally drags himself out of bed after his alarm goes off for the fifth time and Brad comes by yelling, _“get the hell up, Joseph, for christ’s sake!”_

There’s no one to pester his choice of toothpaste, or to grope him at the breakfast table, and Max spends a good twenty minutes staring dejectedly at his bowl of oatmeal before someone comes by and declares that it’s time to head over to Megan-slash-Brandy’s. He almost climbs into the passenger side of the car, too, until he remembers that he’s meant to drive himself, and if possible, he deflates even more. He’s just put the keys into the ignition when his phone suddenly goes off, and he glances down at the screen to find a snapchat from Nev waiting.

(He hadn’t even _wanted_ to make a snapchat, but Nev had insisted, saying that their being on each other’s “best friends” list was critical considering their best-friends-in-real-life status).

It’s a picture of Nev’s face, and he’s sporting the most pathetic look that Max has ever seen. His forehead is wrinkled and his eyes are huge and he’s frowning, and below is the caption _I NEED MY CO-DETECTIVE!!!_ with a bunch of broken heart emojis next to it.

Max stares at it for the allotted ten seconds, then grins. He’s feeling surprisingly better.

Brandy turns out to be timid and sweet and not at all what Max has been expecting, and convincing her to come back to Florida with him isn’t the debacle that he’d assumed it would be. By the time he has Nev on FaceTime, Brandy is already packing her bag and they’re set to be on a plane by nightfall.

The sight of Nev’s face, although slightly pixelated, still quells the fit of anxiety that’s been present in Max’s stomach ever since he left the previous evening, and he’s beginning to accept that, okay, maybe he appreciates Nev’s presence in his life more than he’d like to admit- the ceaseless touching included. And he misses it. Kind of...a lot.

Separation anxiety, indeed.

*

“I was really looking forward to one of those slow-motion reunions, like in the movies, but I guess this will have to do.”

Brandy and Jeff have been properly introduced, and are now off to the side chatting quietly with one another, leaving Nev and Max alone beneath the overhang of Jeff’s apartment building. It’s just as rainy and bleak as it had been when Max had left, but he’s feeling a lot less somber now that he’s here and Nev is smiling that stupid smile at him. The one that Max would claim frustrated him to no end, but that in reality made his insides feel all warm and pleasant and his stomach jump up into his throat.

“Next time, I’ll make sure to come prancing towards you through a field of flowers,” Max promises.

Almost immediately, Nev shakes his head. “Nope. There won’t be a next time. We are never doing that again. Do you have any idea how terrible it was, having to share a car with David? He’s the worst backseat driver I’ve ever met.”

Max laughs, but inside, his body floods with relief. It’s nice to know he hasn’t been the only one suffering through this. “Yeah, well, Brad had to try and wake me up. I think it took an extra half-hour more than usual.”

“I’m the only one who holds the secrets to waking the anti-morning beast that is H Maxwell Joseph!” Nev declares, thumping himself proudly on the chest with one hand. Max is grinning so widely that he probably looks like a lunatic, but at this point, he doesn’t care all that much. And, wow, when did that happen?

“You’re obnoxious,” Max states.

“Obnoxious...insufferable…it’s okay, Max, I know how much you enjoy my wit and my tendency to constantly invade your personal space bubble,” Nev shrugs.

Max is about to exclaim something horribly embarrassing, like _I actually do,_ but thankfully he’s saved by Brandy and Jeff returning to ask if they can take a breather for the rest of the day and meet up again tomorrow. Nev immediately agrees, and then Max has to take Brandy back to the hotel, leaving Nev with a glance over his shoulder that’s probably a tad mopey. _What can you do?_ he conveys helplessly.

When Nev finally ( _finally_ ) makes it back to the hotel that night, Max is lying spread-eagled across one of the queen beds and staring dumbly at the ceiling. He jerks upright as soon as the key card slot whirs to life, followed by the sound of Nev strolling in and calling out, “honey, I’m home!”

He bounds over, and just as Max is about to stand up and greet him, he is quickly thrown backwards as Nev jumps on top of him and smothers him down into the bedspread. Max coughs and sputters as he gets a mouthful of pillowcase and the rainwater that’s peppered across the coat Nev is still wearing, and that’s now soaking into the cotton of Max’s t-shirt rather uncomfortably.

“What the…” Max grunts and shoves ineffectually at Nev’s chest. “Get off of me, you idiot.”

Instantly, Nev shushes him, tucking his head into the crook of Max’s neck and inhaling deeply. “I’m making up for lost time. Give me a moment.”

Max huffs out a laugh, then a literal breath as Nev rearranges himself so that he’s curled into Max’s side, half of his torso weighing down on Max’s ribcage. It isn’t the most pleasant position, and Nev is still soaking wet, and he definitely isn’t the lightest person in the world, but- whatever. Max can deal.

He slips his fingers into Nev’s hair as subtly as he can manage, scratching gently at his scalp, and Nev makes a contented sound. “Are you willingly touching me back? Mark this day in the history books,” he mumbles.

“Shut up,” is Max’s clever reply, and he can feel Nev’s chuckle reverberate through his chest.

“Admit it, you missed me.”

“Hardly,” Max scoffs.

Nev’s head lifts, and he props himself up with an elbow on Max’s sternum. “Brad said you were like a lost puppy without me.”

_Goddamned Brad,_ Max thinks bitterly. “I was not- _am not_ a lost puppy. Brad was over-exaggerating.”

“He told me you didn’t even finish your oatmeal,” Nev adds.

“...I’m going to kill Brad,” Max insists.

“Without Brad there’s no show,” Nev reminds him helpfully. “That means no me.”

Max gives him a dull look.

“Don’t glare at me; we were having a nice cuddle until you got all grumpy.”

“I’m not-” Max starts, but gets cut off when Nev suddenly claps a hand over his mouth, moving his face right up into Max’s proximity so that they’re practically nose-to-nose. “-grumpy. Mmf.”

Nev removes his hand, but then promptly replaces it with his mouth, and just like that, they’re kissing. It’s an interesting turn of events, but not an entirely unwelcome one. Max moves one hand to Nev’s hip while the other remains in Nev’s hair, his lips parting as Nev grasps at his shoulders and holy crap, _they’re actually kissing._ Max can taste mint gum and a hint of coffee and in all honesty, it’s pretty amazing, especially when Nev’s legs slips between his own and he makes this _noise_ that travels straight to Max’s gut.

“And you said…you didn’t want me touching you,” Nev mumbles, his lips traveling away from Max’s mouth and over his chin, his jaw. “Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, Max.”

Max would do his normal grumbling, but since he’s a bit preoccupied, he just decides to shut Nev up with another kiss.


End file.
